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Fairies' First WinterA sudden chill woke me up this morning.   
With eyes half opened, I looked at my surroundings.   
“What… is this, Brown Fairy?” I asked the male fairy standing near me.   
There were white fluffiness falling down from the sky. Much like a rain, cold like ices, soft like cotton, white as purity. Falling as white dots, slowly covering all other colors in the world.   
Brown fairy looked at me and then looked back to the white drops. “I don’t know either. It’s white, so White Fairy should know,” he replied softly.   
He was always calm and quiet. Like earth, he Fairies' First Winter
Brolly the Dog in WintertimeWe're sitting at the window and we're watching the rain turn to sleet, sleet to snow, and from snow it turns to white- pure white and all we can see is white. The doghouse white, the street white, our yard white, garage white, Mr. Frederick's house white, the Adamson's house white as is the Williams', and we're surrounded by the coldest, cleanest cloud.   
 Except we don't live in Montana or wherever else that sort of thing might happen. Still surrounded by white, but it's the glare from Mr. Frederick's porch doors, and the Adamson's bleached fence, and the reflection of the Williams' new pool- left useless by the new cold fron Brolly the Dog in Wintertime
The Getaway HouseThe landscape surrounding my late grandmother’s cottage was beautiful in the winter.  There was pure, un-trodden snow as far as the eye could see, and at intervals a thin and naked tree shivering in the cruel December air.  No pylons, no telegraph wires… just the snow, the trees and the cottage.   
It was a romantic idea, but I never really believed it was practical.  My little brother had a lot of romantic ideas, marriage and fatherhood among them, but those particular ideas were already foundering drastically.  Emily, my beloved niece, the pearl of my world, was not yet one year ol The Getaway House
A Kitchen Witch?That night Alexander slept restlessly. He felt as if he were ...  clang! I glance at the door ... out in the open, as if the fragile walls ... bang! I glance at door again before resettling in my chair  ... that separated him form the jungle had dissolved and he was exposed ... thud! I start this time at the sound ... to ...  boom! I put my book down and look to my left. The door is closed but the noises have become too frequent to ignore. I walk past the frosted window without glancing out. As a child I was enraptured by the snowflakes that settled on the sill but today the noises are more interesting. As I walk towards it, I A Kitchen Witch?
The Memory of RainI can see what you can not.      Winter is that magical time of year I can let the garden be, drink hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger, let my beanbag envelope me as I watch my favourite movies. Every house needs a beanbag.      The slaters crawling up plugholes can annoy you if you let them, but I don’t.      I step out onto the morning dew, watch frozen grass snap underfoot as I go to get my mail, leaning into the wind. Afternoons are lazy, nights are bitter; but mornings are magical.      The water-laden air of expectation has a fre The Memory of Rain
"Snow""Snow"   
I stand on top of this chipped rock with a confused look on my face. Drive by, honking ensues by those blasted cars that always has their bass up too high and waking everyone up. You can see my blue coat catch those scoundrels falling from the sky, called “snowflakes” and shimmer down onto our green grass. There’s a pile of it ahead of me, maybe five inches deep. You can already hear those dreaded shovels be dragged out and scrape against that gray cement. We always love that here.   
My hands twitch from this blustering wind. You’re probably wondering what I’m thinking about, trying to f "Snow"
The Lady's First Snow     When the world turned white, it wasn’t the gradual process I’d been led to believe it would be. There was a flurry, a fierce blizzard lasting no more than two hours, and then there was a foot-high layer of ice-cold powder at my feet, reflecting dazzling sunlight and burying the bottom of the landscape.   
     I entered this new world in something of a daze, pushing the cabin door open against the snow piled against it and wading through it, down towards the frozen-over lake.  
 
     “No good for making a snowman,” laughed The Lady's First Snow
No Ordinary ChristmasStepping down the stairs, I made sure to keep quiet. I didn’t want to wake up my parents, they wouldn’t believe me anyway. The reason I was trying my best to be as quiet as a mouse, is because I swear to God I heard something on the roof.  
 
Now, I know this sounds childish, but my curiosity took over my common sense. My curiosity also took me down the stairs and into the living room. Unfortunately, it didn’t know what to do from there. I had no clue what I was looking for, and my common sense was starting to regain control.  
 
What was I thinking? Here I was, downstairs in the middle of the night, looking No Ordinary Christmas
First Snow                She gazed outside at the ground, which was completely covered in a thin sheet of white, with more flakes slowly drifting from the sky.                  First snow. She was reminded, briefly, of a childhood poem, but the memory was fleeting. Her next thought was a mundane one: I need to get the shovel out. Soon.                  As a small child, she had been fascinated with snow. S First Snow
LitMas: Christmas Flash                                                       Bitchy Barbie   
  Look at them, look at all of those mothers piled onto those doors like vultures after the same carcass. You have to love christmas, a time when mothers promise their little..darlings anything they desire- as long as their good.  And these children have really learned over the LitMas: Christmas Flash
Phantom In this LifeHe admired the subtle aroma of brewing coffee beans and the low chattering of laptop keys. Amateur mass-produced paintings painstakingly decorated the walls, but the iridescence of the snowflakes meandering along the breeze outside proved to be a better distraction. He seemed to notice his surroundings more now than ever.   
The love of his short life sat waiting in a comfortable chair next to the window that illustrated the love that he felt for her through snowflakes and virgin snow and children happy and bundled from the cold. He so loved to keep her warm. She seemed to shiver as if her sweater, scarf, and a warm café weren& Phantom In this Life
FreezingI’ve heard it said that freezing to death is not actually a bad way to die.  Well, I think I’ve been slowly freezing to death every winter for the past ten years, and it’s not a pleasant way to die either.  I wonder how anyone came to that conclusion, since nobody who’s been through the whole process is really in a condition to speak about it.  I think it’s maybe just supposed to be the late stages of it that aren’t bad, and maybe I haven’t been that far, but it still seems to me that if it’s bad for a while it doesn’t really matter if it’s not that bad right at t Freezing
Winter SpiritYou’re old and bearded, frail and weak. You’ve teeth that are rotting, and a smile that ruptures your skin. You dress royally, a cross-dressing ballet dancer that’s grown old, but never lost the spirit of the dance. You sing and shout merrily, dancing atop rooftops with the glee of a five year old, echoing the spirits you inspire. The saddest thing is, however, that you’re long dead and buried. Lying meekly in a soaked grave, your skeleton has turned into bones that could belong to anyone. That, my dear saint, is the bare truth. Perhaps, however, that truth isn’t actually a bad one. Perhaps it’s not something to Winter Spirit

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